Why Yer M'Favorite
by Meggin Lane
Summary: Tag to "You can't Handle the Truth" When he was under the influence of Veritas Bobby let it spill to Dean that he was his favorite and after he  "collects himself"  he muses over just why he did that.


Why yer M'favorite

Tag to "You can't Handle the Truth" When he was under the influence of Veritas Bobby let it spill to Dean that he was his favorite and after he "collects himself" he muses over just why he did that.

wWw

Don't own'em, just love 'em. Wished ta hell I worked for Kripke.

wWw

Bobby rushed into the bathroom after he hung up from Dean and quickly splashed water over his face. The things he told the boy... the things he _almost_ told him made his stomach roll. 'Jeeezusjumpinatcha' that line of familiarity and respect came that close to gettin' crossed!' he thought as he scrubbed the rough washcloth over his face and noted the shaken look staring back at him from the stained mirror over the sink.

He balled up the towel and fiercely slammed it down onto the floor. 'Those two idjts!' they always got to him. Scared him and pissed him off more than anyone or THING in all his years of hunting. "My favorite...and why the hell did I tell him that?" he said aloud. Then his eyes caught a glance of his expression again in the mirror...and he knew.

He'd started to have a warm spot in his heart for the kid the day he first met him.

wWw

It was a hot summer night, I'd gotten the call only fifteen minutes out from John that he was in the area and needed to drop the kids by my place, we'd planned to have 'em stay here that Summer anyway but this was sudden and I told him I was fine with that I'd been wantin' to see his kids for years.

John had dropped them off without much preamble but a hurried bunch of 'Thanks, I owe yous' rushin' off on some hot lead for a hunt. The two boys on the porch just stood there eyein' me suspiciously. Dean couldn't have been more than eight and Sammy was a pudgy little four year old. Who knew he'd grow to be such a moose later on?

I started to bend down to get acquainted but their expressions stopped me.

They both looked at me like they were sizing me up. Especially Dean. The kid had a protective arm around his little brother and a backpack on his back loaded with enough supplies to buckle his knees but he just stood there and stared this stranger in front of them down as if to dare me to step one inch closer.

The look the kid had in his eyes, the smoldering glare, threatening to vaporize M' face - I knew right then and there I liked his Moxie. And if I wanted to get those two into the house and squared away for however long their daddy was gonna be gone I was going to have to gain Dean Winchesters trust first.

So I pressed M' lips tight so as not to give away the smile that threatened to spread out, and pulled myself up straight, arms crossed over the chest and stared back.

One second, two seconds, three seconds...awe hell.

Lookin' gruff is one expression that just comes natural to me and I spread it on thick but this starin' contest was fixin' to last all night, so I stuck out my meaty paw to the older boy. "Names Singer. Bobby Singer and you are?"

The kid pursed his lips up like he was considering me then put his right hand out to mine and I bent down to get into his face. He never flinched or took his eyes off me just grabbed my paw in his mit and held on firmly ( for such a little mit) and gave it one shake then two. "Name's Winchester," he said all low toned and firm back at me, "Dean Winchester and this here's my brother Sammy."

Sammy, John's younger one, shifted on his feet and looked to his older brother as if for permission. But Dean just tightened his one armed grip around the kids shoulders and squinted his eyes all flinty like at me. Lettin' me know that if I planned on any harm to his little brother I'd haft got through him first. And damn if the kid couldn't sell a look! There he was all four feet tall of him, face like a god damned cherub and he's goin' all Clint Eastwood on me...on my own goddamned porch for that matter!

Well...shoot. Heard that sound right then and there in this ol 'hunters heart... that metal 'thunk' as I got sold hook, line and sinker. I knew right then that boy'd grow up to be the kinda man I'd want next to me in any fist fight or foxhole.

wWw

Bobby sighed and took the well worn baseball cap up off his head and re-adjusted it. And resigned himself to the fact that of the two of them idjits Dean would always be the one that ...that... "Oh for jumpingjeehosephat! See! Only Dean would even have me thinkin' bout when they was kids and shit like that ...idjit!"

The end

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